


Family

by waterpots



Category: Oh My Girl (Band)
Genre: AU, Family-ish, Friendship, Gen, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8982376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterpots/pseuds/waterpots
Summary: Seven short liittle vignettes of the members being with Arin





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [5/30/17] HELLO!! oh my girl fic exchange!! https://ohmygirlexchange.dreamwidth.org/6570.html

Jiho and Arin weren’t sisters per say, that would be strange, considering they only met because Arin visited Jiho’s hometown one summer, all strange accents and shy three-year-old smiles, hiding behind her parents as Jiho stood proudly in front of hers, already exuding the reckless sort of confidence that would follow her through her entire life.

Their parents were family friends, and as a result the two of them would be forced to spend every summer up in Jiho’s hometown or down south in Arin’s, a decision neither of them disliked particularly much. After the initial awkwardness wore off and Jiho’s parents told them to just play around in the backyard, they were quick friends. Arin found out Jiho was one hell of a storyteller, with the sort of vivid imagination that she should have expected from such an outgoing person.

Jiho was awkward too, Arin found out the second summer she went down, now aged five years old. Jiho was seven, which meant she was already in elementary school and therefore much cooler than Arin, leading Arin to be shocked to find Jiho quietly fumbling over her words in front of a very small girl who resembled a doll, one of Jiho’s friends, as she later found out. But it didn’t matter, because Arin was only five, and didn’t understand fleeting crushes, and Jiho was still the coolest person to her.

They became pen pals that fall, Jiho writing letters to Arin and Arin writing letters back (and sometimes communicating through phone calls when she couldn’t bother to use her father as a scribe). When Arin started to learn how to read and write herself, she couldn’t stop laughing at how funny Jiho’s letters got, and when she asked how Jiho was so funny, Jiho informed her it was because of her “exasperate wit and humor.” Arin tried to ask her dad how to get “exasperate wit,” but all her dad did was laugh at her. She tried to ask her mom, but her mom just informed her that “exasperate wit” wasn’t a thing, which was pure blasphemy to Arin, because Jiho had “exasperate wit,” so it must be real.

They didn’t know enough about each other from summers and writing letters apparently, because the next year Arin went up, now aged eight, Jiho was much more comfortable around the doll girl, Yoo Shiah, and had a friend group that expanded much larger. Arin didn’t meet them, because it was summer break and they were also all older than Arin, and because Jiho decided that summer that she would be fully dedicated to hanging out with Arin, who could now read and write stories with her.

Their summers continued like that, Jiho growing older and cooler in Arin’s eyes, and Arin completely unaware of her own growth as a person. And she loved hanging out with Jiho, and Jiho’s friends, so she wasn’t at all upset when, at age thirteen, her parents informed her they would be moving down to live in Jiho’s hometown, right down the street from her best friend and closest confidant.


	2. Binnie

Sometimes Arin liked being the youngest. They all doted on her and would take her out special when they had the chance. Other times, like right now, she hated it.

“You’re not done until we finish this set,” Binnie said, pointing at the paper on the library table in front of them. Arin groaned, resting her head on the table, dropping the pencil she was holding onto the ground.

“It’s been hours, please just let me have a break!” Arin whined. Binnie was an obstinate tutor. She was effective, most of the time, but most of the time didn’t involve complex trigonometric functions.

“You’ve gotten everything else, just get through this last part.” Binnie wasn’t budging. “If you do that, then you’ll be completely done!”

“But can’t I have a break first? And then come back to it?”

“If this is a strategy Jiho tried to teach you, it won’t work. You say it’s a five minute break and suddenly it’s been three hours and you won’t go back to your work. I know her tricks.” Binnie narrowed her eyes at Arin. “Plus, if you need energy, I have the perfect thing to show you--”

“Nope!” Arin jumped back to sitting straight, swiping her hand under the desk to grab her pencil and staring at the problems in front of her. “I’m totally fine! I’ve got this!”

“I don’t get what everyone’s problem is, it’s not that bad. It’s cute,” Binnie huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t like to quote Jiho on many things, but she’s right about that. ‘Every time you do that we get one step closer to World War III.’”

Binnie gasped. “You take that back!” But Arin was ignoring her, focusing instead on the problems in front of her. Binnie huffed one more time before leaning back in her seat, resigned.

“Hey, Binnie,” Arin said after a moment, eyes still focused on the paper, trying to work through one of the problems. Binnie hummed. “Can we get ice cream after this?” Binnie frowned thoughtfully for a moment, but Arin spoke again before she could reply. “Actually, could you just explain this problem to me? I get the rest of them but something about this I just can’t understand.”

Binnie leaned forward, scanning the paper for a moment, before turning over to her bag. “Tell you what,” Binnie said, picking the bag up off the floor. “We’ll get ice cream first, and I can explain this one to you tomorrow.” Arin’s mouth fell open. In all the time she’d known Binnie, and all the stories she’d heard from anyone (mostly Jiho) who had also been tutored by her, Binnie never granted a concession like this.

Binnie gave Arin an expectant look. “Yes or no?” Arin nodded vigorously, grabbing her bag and stuffing the papers inside it. “This is our secret, okay? Nobody can know.” Arin nodded again, standing up to follow Binnie out of the library to the nearby ice cream shop.


	3. Hyojung

When Arin was seven she hung out with Jiho almost every day of the summer, except some days when Jiho had lessons her parents had signed her up for. Arin didn’t mind too much, because when Jiho got back she would teach Arin the Japanese she’d learned in a summer class, but overall the time Jiho was gone would get pretty boring.

Arin had ways to entertain herself, she would play with toys around Jiho’s yard and ride her bike around the neighborhood. Her parents didn’t want her to travel much beyond Jiho’s street, but sometimes she would, because sometimes she had to be a little reckless (at least for a seven year old).

Every time Arin did this, like today, it was exhilarating. The wind whipping in her face as she went down a hilly street and the fact that she was only vaguely aware of where she was, the fact that she didn’t have to wear a helmet (she still did, she’s no delinquent. But she didn’t have to).

One time, while riding down a street, the bike spiralled out of control from under Arin and she found herself splayed out on the sidewalk, staring at the sky, dazed. Her knee stung badly and when she reached down to check on it she was vaguely aware of there being some kind of liquid on her leg.

“Are you okay?” She heard a girl ask, but she couldn’t focus on anything besides the tears beginning to well in her eyes. She felt herself being pulled up, by a girl who, at least at the time, seemed incredibly tall. Once Arin was sitting up, the girl moved over to her bike and picked that up, walking beside it back to Arin. “My house is a few away from here, can you walk? I’ll get you patched up.”

Arin nodded, slowly standing herself up. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands, finally getting a clear view of around her. The girl in front of her was older than her, about middle school aged, and the first thing Arin could think of when she saw her were sunflowers, or something filled with equal happiness.

“What’s your name? Do you live around here?” The girl asked. Arin opened her mouth to explain the situation, but the only thing that came out was a hiccupped sob. She wasn’t as finished crying as she thought she was, maybe because every time she took a step forward with her right leg she felt a jolt of pain. The girl looked over at Arin, worry etched on her face.

“Here, let me get this,” the girl said, pausing for a moment and reaching to undo the helmet from Arin’s head. She then clipped the helmet’s strap back together, using that to hang it off one of the handles on the bike. “Is your name Arin?” The girl asked. “It’s written on the inside of this hat.” Arin frowned, looking at the inside of the helmet to see that, indeed, the name ARIN was written in black sharpie along the white padding inside the helmet.

Arin tried to respond again, but the girl cut her off. “Okay, this is my house.” She pointed to a small white one-story house in front of them. “You just wait here on the steps, okay Arin? I’ll be back in a second.” The girl disappeared into her house, resting Arin’s bike on the steps leading inside. Arin had no choice but to sit as well, taking a good look at the mess that had become of her knee.

The girl was back in lightning speed, with a first-aid kit in one hand and a towel in the other. She started to clean Arin’s knee, talking as she did to distract the girl.

“My name’s Choi Hyojung. I’m twelve. I’ve already hit my growth spurt which means this is as tall as it gets, but that’s okay. Hold on, this may sting for a second.” It did sting for a second, but just as quickly the pain was gone. “You’re really taking this well, the last time I had to dress a wound for Seunghee, she was crying like a baby,” Hyojung trailed off for a moment, placing a bandage onto the cut. “But maybe that’s just Seunghee!” She finished, grinning at Arin. “You’re all set!” She gave Arin a blinding smile, which Arin returned.

Hyojung’s eyes widened suddenly, just remembering something, before she jumped up and bolted into the house again, returning moments later with something in her hand.

“It’s chocolate flavored,” she said, holding the popsicle out to Arin. “I know it’s not everyone’s favorite, but since you were so good while I was handling your knee, I thought you deserved it.” Arin smiled wider, thanking Hyojung for the popsicle and taking it from her. “Should we get you back? Do you know the way?” Arin nodded and Hyojung picked up Arin’s bike, nodding for the girl to stand. “You lead the way, okay?”

The walk back was short, and when Arin arrived Jiho was wandering up the street, looking rather nervous.

“Jiho!” Arin shouted, getting the girl’s attention. Jiho ran up to them, quickly looking Arin over.

“Your knee, what happened?”

“She fell off her bike and scraped it up, I cleaned it up and covered it,” Hyojung explained. “Is Arin your friend from out of town that you always tell us about?”

“Arin?” Jiho gave Arin a curious look.

“That’s the name on the inside of her helmet, I just assumed it was hers.”

“Oh.” Jiho frowned. “We got that from a family friend. I actually don’t know who Arin is. Her name’s Yewon.”

Hyojung nodded, understanding. “Why didn’t you tell me I was getting your name wrong?” She asked, turning to Arin.

Arin shrugged. “I couldn’t talk,” she explained.

“That’s okay.” Hyojung turned back to Jiho. “She’s okay now, so just make sure to take the bandage off before it gets gross.” Hyojung patted Arin on the back, giving her a large smile. “I hope it doesn’t hurt too bad. Be safe next time, okay?” Arin nodded, and Hyojung passed her bike off to Jiho, giving them a final wave before walking back towards her street.

“How’d you meet Hyojung?” Jiho asked, the two starting to walk back down the street to Jiho’s house.

“She found me when I fell,” Arin answered. “She gave me a chocolate popsicle.”

“She’s awful nice, isn’t she?”

“Like the sun,” Arin said without thinking.

“Right?" Jiho grinned at Arin, who looked away in embarrassment at what she'd accidentally said. "She’s the oldest kid in the neighborhood, at least of the people I talk to. She helps all the kids out and she’s sort of the unofficial mom of the neighborhood.” Arin nodded, listening to Jiho tell a story of some misadventure Jiho got into with her neighborhood friends.

* * *


	4. Mimi

“This is what I’m about!” Mimi grinned, taking a large scoop of chocolate ice cream. Arin smiled as she watched Mimi.

“You’re an adult now, and yet I look more mature right now.”

“Listen,” Mimi said, pointing her spoon at Arin. “You grow old, but nobody makes you grow up.”

Arin gave Mimi a blank look. “That’s…”

“Don’t judge me! I just went through finals!”

“A while ago! I’m going through finals right now!”

“I can’t believe it though,” Mimi said, smiling wistfully out the window. “I’ve been out of college for two months now-”

“Only a month,” Arin cut in.

“Wait seriously? May to- Wait and- Oh! Oh yeah, only a month.” Arin let out a sigh, but still gave Mimi a small smile. “And you’re in high school!” Mimi said suddenly, her eyes lighting up at the fact she seemed to just remember. “How did freshman year treat you?”

“It was okay,” Arin said with a shrug. “Binnie’s a great tutor, but she’s also really strict. Jiho’s nicer when she tutors, but the tradeoff is less learned. Seunghee’s just been trying to get me to join the chorus, so I’ve given up on asking her for any help.”

“Freshman year’s the tough one, but it’s okay. You’ve got a lot of friends there for you.” Mimi took another large bite of ice cream, scrunching her face up quickly after doing so. “Brain freeze,” she mumbled.

“How was college?” Arin asked, laughing at Mimi’s facial expression.

“Good! I had a few eight am classes which weren’t fun, but it was cool. I made a lot of friends and did fun stuff.” Mimi held her cup of ice cream towards Arin, who took a spoonful of it for herself. “I haven’t seen anyone yet, how are they?”

“You’ve been home for a while.” Arin frowned. “How haven’t you?”

“I’ve been working. My and YooA’s schedules don’t match up at all! It’s terrible. We’re in the same town and we’re still communicating through voice calls.” Arin nodded. “I wanted to take you out specifically though. I’m working on your birthday and I’m really upset about it, so I wanted to take you out. And!” Mimi reached inside her bag to pull something out, setting a square book on the table. “I got you this! Well, I made you this.”

Arin carefully slid the book toward herself, opening it up to look at the first page. “Is this-” she started, a large smile on her face.

“I drew some of them, but a lot of them are just photos. I know it’s not much but I wanted to give you something special. High school is a new chapter of your life so I thought I could give you a memento from the last one,” Mimi said, scratching the back of her head awkwardly.

“I love it, thank you so much!” Arin said, flipping between the pages. “I’d hug you but there’s a table between us.”

Mimi laughed. “You can do that later, for now let’s just finish our ice cream.” Arin nodded, closing the scrapbook and moving it to the side, focusing on the food in front of her.


	5. YooA

“Anything on your mind?” YooA asked an unnaturally quiet Arin. They were both sitting on YooA’s bed, watching a movie they’d found on Netflix off of YooA’s tv. Arin was sleeping over YooA’s house, a common thing they did during the summer, usually with more of their friends, sometimes just the two of them.

“Yeah, why don’t the subtitles match up with the actual movie?” Arin asked, pointing at the screen. YooA was sitting behind Arin, playing with the younger girl’s hair. YooA furrowed her eyebrows, confused as she hadn’t actually been paying attention to the movie. “Look, he calls himself Leo the Lion, but the thing introduces him as Leo Bonecrusher.”

“That wasn’t really what I-”

“Also he’s a vegetarian? Wouldn’t a vegetarian lion die? Wasn’t there a Futurama meme about that or something?”

“Are you seriously talking about memes right now?”

“You learn a few things when you hang out with Jiho a lot, it’s not my fault!” Arin defended, turning to face YooA. “This movie makes absolutely no sense though. I don’t understand at all.”

“It’s just background noise,” YooA said with a laugh. “Don’t think about it too hard. Although, yes. A vegetarian lion would die, I think.”

“Exactly!”

“That’s not important though!” YooA laughed again. “How’s school going? You’re in highschool now, that’s exciting! Are you doing any activities? Are you making friends? Is there anyone you like?” YooA wiggled her eyebrows at Arin. Arin lowered her eyes to her lap, feeling herself start to blush.

“Wait,” YooA said, shocked. “There is? Oh my god.” YooA grabbed Arin’s thighs and pulled the girl towards her, so the two were touching knees. “Tell me everything.”

“It’s,” Arin started awkwardly, staring at the bed. “She’s in my grade and she befriended me in the first week of school. I don’t know, she’s really nice.”

“Does she know you like her?”

“Probably not. She made a lot of friends in the first week of school. We both sort of split into different friend groups, but we still talk. Her name’s Yeri and she does band so she’s with a lot of those kids.”

YooA nodded, thinking. “Have you told anyone else? Jiho?”

“I tried to tell Jiho and Mimi one day when I was out with them, but when I brought up the topic Jiho told me I was six and Mimi talked about some boy at college she thought was cute.” YooA made a face.

“I can’t believe it though,” YooA’s face returned to normal. “Your first crush.”

“Well-” YooA gave a curious look. “Yeah, my first crush.”

“And I get to hear about it first!” YooA said, a goofy grin on her face. “Probably because I’m so smart and educated about relationships and all.” Arin opened her mouth to retort that it was just because YooA had asked the right questions, but chose to keep quiet instead and let the girl have her moment. “But seriously,” YooA said, looking past Arin. “What’s happening in this  movie. Are they singing?”

* * *


	6. Seunghee

“I’m the best mini-golfer this side of the Mississippi!”

“We live in Korea, what’s the Mississippi and which side of it are we on?” Arin asked, picking up a pink golf ball and her club from the shack that served as the front desk for the mini golf place.

“The Earth is round so, both?” Seunghee said, giving Arin her winning smile and taking her own golf club and green ball. Arin surveyed the golf course. They had come during the evening, when little children were no longer there, so it was mostly full of groups of friends and young couples playing.

“There’s already a few people waiting at the first hole, we’re going to have to wait,” Arin said, taking a seat at a bench. Seunghee plopped down beside her, stretching her legs out.

“I started doing track because a friend suggested it and it’s killing my legs,” Seunghee complained.

“I did track in the fall in the winter, it wasn’t that bad,” Arin said with a laugh.

“Some of us weren’t made for running a lot. And why’d you stop?”

“Oh,” Arin said nervously, realizing she’d put herself in an uncomfortable position. “I, uh, started taking oboe lessons, so that, sort of-”

“What!” Seunghee shouted. She pointed her golf club at Arin accusingly. “You said you couldn’t join chorus because you weren’t good at music and you take oboe lessons?”

“Well, I mean, Yeri was in band and she just said it would be a big help if there were more oboes-”

“And if this ‘Yeri’ told you to jump off a bridge, would you?”

“Is Yeri also going to jump off the bridge?”

Seunghee groaned, throwing her free hand up in defeat. “Unbelievable. You do this for a stupid girl you like but you won’t do anything for your good pal Seunghee. I practically raised you!”

“We met three years ago,” Arin deadpanned.

“Well, the concept applies somehow. Also how could you not tell me? I bet this is why Jiho kept giving me sympathetic looks, that jerk.”

“I was going to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how without you getting mad at me,” Arin said, fidgeting awkwardly, her hands in her lap. “I sort of need your help anyway, I don’t get everything.”

“I don’t play oboe, I can’t really help you.”

“It’s not about anything involving oboe. It’s more like, I don’t get how, the lines and the dots equal notes.”

Seunghee stared blankly at Arin for a moment before speaking. “You don’t know how to read sheet music?”

“Is that the thing the band director points at and then tells me is a Bflat scale? By the way, why is the B flat?”

“Arin. Have you ever considered that you’re in way over your head? All to impress a girl?” Arin nodded. “I’ll help but, next time stick to something like buying her chocolate and flowers. Also, we’re up.”

“You’re not mad at me?” Arin asked as the two stood to get to the first hole of the golf course.

“Nah, the whole music program needs members. It’s good you’re doing it. Plus, we got this one freshman in chorus, her name’s Suhyun or something. She’s really good so I don’t need someone to continue my legacy.”

* * *

“You won!” Arin said, finishing tallying up the scores of the game. Seunghee let out a victory cheer and did a little dance around Arin, the two waiting for the bus to arrive. “Jiho always lets me win, so that was fun!”

“Are you sure Jiho’s not just bad at mini-golf?” Seunghee asked.

“That’s fair. But I also always win against JinE.”

Seunghee froze in the middle of her dance, staring at the ground below her. “Now that I think of it, we maybe all signed a pact to let you win everything. I just broke the blood oath. I might die tonight.”

“What?”

“I’m joking, mostly. When you were little we always let you win, that’s all. They probably just still do that,” Seunghee said, standing up straight and smiling. Arin nodded, frowning slightly, and Seunghee shrugged, slinging one arm over Arin’s shoulder and leading her onto the bus.


	7. JinE

“Okay so we need fifty-eight eggs.”

“That says 3 eggs.”

“No it’s fifty-eight.”

“There are absolutely no similarities between those two numbers.” Arin said, letting out a sigh. Hyejin was probably just messing with her, that’s what she usually did, but that didn’t stop Arin from trying to tell Hyejin the right way to cook whatever they were cooking.

Cooking with Arin was Hyejin’s favorite hobby, although nobody could figure out why. Neither were exceptional cooks, in fact a lot of their “creations” were only edible to the two of them, but almost every time they hung out together Hyejin brought a list of new recipes and all the ingredients needed.

“Believe in me,” Hyejin said to Arin, adding eggs to a mixing bowl. “I am the omelet king; this is going to come out great!”

“Omelets? I thought we were making pudding?” Arin asked, looking over the recipe Hyejin had printed out.

“Why would we make pudding? It’s like six in the morning,” Hyejin asked, giving Arin a curious look. “We can make pudding later, if you want.”

“Six in the-” Arin pulled her phone out of her pocket, double-checking the time. “Hyejin, it’s ten!” Hyejin frowned, looking over Arin’s shoulder at her phone.

“Oh. Everything makes a lot more sense now. And I was really proud of how early I’d woken up too.” Hyejin frowned for a moment, still mixing eggs in the bowl, before shrugging. “We’re having brunch. It’s all fine. Either way I’m good at making omelets. Except the flipping part I’m not sure how this is going to go.”

“Isn’t that the most important part?” Arin asked, slowly taking a step away.

“Yeah, probably.” Hyejin shrugged again. “If I flip them wrong we can just have scrambled eggs with cheese and sausage mixed in. It’s brilliant.” Arin let out another sigh, watching Hyejin work. She actually seemed to have a pretty good idea of what she was doing, judging by how confidently she moved around the corner of the kitchen they were in, cracking eggs and preheating a pan on the stove. Then again, Hyejin could very well be acting.

“Hey,” Hyejin said absentmindedly, fiddling with the heat dial on the stove. “What if we made pancakes with corn again? That came out pretty well.”

“No, you’ll just make me do that pun again.”

“It was pretty funny! Seunghee seemed to think so!” Hyejin fought back, referring to a time where her and Arin had cooked in front of the rest of their friends, open to criticism and some “helpful hints” (read: directions) from Hyojung.

“You and Seunghee have the same terrible sense of humor,” Arin said. The two were quiet a moment, Hyejin pouring the beaten eggs into the skillet, before Arin spoke again. “Were those pancakes paleo?”

“What?”

“The corn pancakes. Were they considered paleo?”

“You’re not going paleo, are you? Because if you are I think we’re going to have a serious issue,” Hyejin said, pausing and frowning at Arin. Arin shook her head. “I don’t think so, at least. There was still flour in the batter.”

“Oh, I forgot.”

“Anyway, prepare for the greatest omelet flip in world history!” Hyejin said, grinning and holding the pan with one hand. Arin took another step back from Hyejin, nodding for the girl to continue. This recipe, she realized, was going to end like every other. An enjoyable disaster.


End file.
